Nothing
by threewhitedoves
Summary: Pressure can be a killer. WARNING! Mentions of self harm, may be a trigger.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I said I would stop writing angst, but I can't help it with the state of mind I'm in :(**

**It's 1am and I just wrote this, so sorry if it's complete gibberish. I don't have a Beta at the moment so if anyone's interested.. let me know :) **

**Oh and I finally got Tumblr! revert(dash)to(dash)deviation(dot)tumblr(dot)com**

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><p>Kurt sat on his bed in his dorm room looking at the various objects in front of him: 3 different razors, a bandage, the small blades from a pencil sharpener, a compass, a pair of sharp scissors and a phone. He slowly stripped until he was in just his boxers and picked up a small blade. He laid it on the palm of his hand and just stared at it. Did he really want to do this? He'd been clean ever since he came to Dalton, but sometimes the pressure just got too much. Being in the Warblers was a wonderful thing but it didn't give him the time he needed to voice his opinion the only way he knew how, through song. He felt as if he has lost his voice.<p>

No longer with an emotional outlet Kurt begun to feel the pressure of the rigorous classes and general tasks of day to day life creeping up towards boiling point. That is why he found himself sitting on his bed in his empty dorm room on a Saturday evening, when almost everyone else was out with their respective other. Most likely including Blaine. Blaine, perfect and carefree Blaine. What did he have to worry about? He was a straight A's student, lead soloist of The Warblers and could reduce anyone to a puddle of goo by just looking at them. Perfect Blaine who would never consider anyone as messed up as Kurt as anything more than a broken doll.

Kurt took a deep breath and carefully picked up the small, but sharp blade. His eyes racked over his skin, searching for a place to cut. He settled just above his hips where no one would ever see. It wasn't like anyone was going to be taking his shirt off anytime soon.

He slowly lowered his and arm positioned his hand, resting the cool blade against his skin. Letting out the breath he had been holding, Kurt added a little pressure and moved the blade cleanly and expertly across his skin. He watched with a strange sense of euphoria as the blood rushed out of the wound and ran down his abdomen. It was almost like he was relieving the pressure that had been bloating his body and mind for so long. Kurt swiftly finished up, grabbing a nearby towel to press to the cuts. Sitting cross-legged and bending over to keep the towel in place, He gathered his instruments back into the box and turned the key before placing it to the side to be put away later. He stood up and slowly made his way to the bathroom, wincing as each step caused the skin around his injuries to stretch.

He made it into the bathroom and peeled off his blood soaked boxers, throwing them in the sink, before turning the shower on and stepping into it.

Kurt hissed as he turned around, letting the warm spray hit the damaged area around his left hipbone. He let his mind wander as he unconsciously slowly rotated in circles. He had been so close to hitting the 2 month mark, now he had to start again. _Or maybe not..._ _I don't have to stop at all. It won't be hard to hide it from the others; they never pay attention to me anyway. Blaine doesn't even ask to go for coffee anymore. It would be my little secret. _

Kurt turned the knobs and stepped out on wobbly legs, almost excited about the concept. He gently dried himself off and grabbed the bandages off his bed, slowly wrapping them around his middle. He didn't bother putting anything else on apart from some new underwear, too tired from the emotionally exhausting afternoon. He crawled into bed, completely forgetting about cleaning up as he drifted into a deep sleep.

_I can do this. _

No you can't.

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><p><strong>I could continue this, I have it planned out. It's up to you if it's worth it though.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

_Italics _**are Kurt's thoughts  
><strong>_**Bold Italics**_** are the character in questions thoughts. (Nick)**

**Big thanks to my new Beta, imalemonadeaddictt :D **

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><p>"I'll see you guys tomorrow!" Nick waved at the retreating figures as he dug through his pockets in search of the key to the dorm he and Kurt shared.<p>

Finally managing to unlock the door in his tipsy state, Nick stumbled over the threshold and chucked his keys in the general vicinity of the bowl by the door. He felt along the wooden panelled wall for the light switch before remembering that Kurt was most likely asleep since he didn't go out with the rest of the guys earlier. _**Kurt has been very distant the past couple of weeks. Probably exams. Maybe Blaine can help or something...**_

Nick stripped down to his boxers and slowly padded to the dimly lit bathroom. He took off the remainder of his clothes and started the shower. Climbing in, he sighed in relief as the warm water covered his body from head to toe. Slowly fumbling for the shampoo he didn't notice the specks of blood on that corner of the shower floor that the water never quite reached. Nick quickly finished up, lusting after his comfortable bed and the land of dreams, he walked straight past the sink in which the bloody boxers still sat. Climbing into bed and falling asleep, Nick didn't notice Kurt's eyes wide open and watching his every move.

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><p>The coming weeks were much the same. Wake up, brush teeth, get dressed, do hair, have a small breakfast, go to class, lunch, go to class, Warblers practice, dinner, cut, bandage, bed.<p>

The same routine over and over again. Staying in his dorm room each weekend while everyone else either went home or enjoyed the company of their friends/girlfriends/boyfriends. Finals were coming up and Kurt needed to study. He needed to keep up with everyone else, including perfect -Blaine.

He slowly dragged his pencil over the blank page, staring into space as his thoughts drifted away from the History assignment. Kurt hadn't seen his family and McKinley friends for at least a month now. He used to email and text everyone at least once a day. But gradually their replies became sparse until one day they didn't reply at all. He still spoke to his dad every few days. Just the usual phone call, 'How are you? How are you managing the work load? Do you need anything?' and always the same reply. 'I'm fine'.

Kurt Hummel wasn't 'fine'. He was an emotional wreck. He cut himself almost daily to try and feel something, anything. It was like he was drowning in a never ending sea of textbooks and uniforms. He had no individuality, no way to speak out. Being constantly ripped down does wonders for your self esteem.

He sighed and took out his drawing pad and a pencil and trudged over to the window seat. Gazing out across the grounds, he watched some of the boys playing a game of soccer in the bright sunshine. With his knees curled beneath him, he started to draw.

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><p>"KUUURRTTTT!"<p>

A dark skinned boy barrelled through the door, almost tripping over his own feet.

Kurt awoke with a start and fell off his seat, with the contents of his lap hitting the floor with a thud.  
>He lay on the soft floor groaning and rubbing his eyes. The blurry figure slowly came into view and Kurt groaned again "What the hell David?"<p>

"Oh sorry, were you sleeping?"

Kurt glared at him. "No, not at all"

But the sarcasm was lost on David, who just smiled again and walked towards Kurt. "A group of us are going for ice-cream since the weathers so nice. Do you wanna come?"

Kurt just blinked at him.

"Uh... Kurt?" David waved a hand in front of his face.

Kurt blinked again. None of the boys had ever made an effort to include him in any group activities before. He was about to decline before remembering the cuts hidden beneath his shirt and his desire to at least appear normal.

"Sure... Who's going?"

David smiled again. _Does he have the happy disease or something? _"Just a few of us; Wes, Nick, Jeff, Trent, Blaine and hopefully you" David looked hopeful, like he really wanted Kurt to come.

Kurt eyed him suspiciously for a moment before sighing and getting to his feet. "Fine. Let me get change- AH!" David grabbed his wrist and literally dragged him out of the room. Kurt winced as David's hand caused the fabric of his shirt to rub against his healing wounds. He didn't have time to grab his keys and was lucky his phone and wallet were already in his pocket. He just hoped that for once Nick hadn't forgotten his keys.

Kurt was met by the group of boys chatting and mucking around in the foyer, clearly waiting on David.

"Finally! We we're beginning to think you'd gone to Mars instead! Hi Kurt!" Jeff called out. All the boys stopped what they were doing and shuffled into something resembling a group.

"Oh shut it. Just because you can't be patient to save your life!" David called back. He let go of Kurt's wrist and made his way over, with Kurt trailing uncertainly behind.

"Alright, now that everyone's here" Wes shot a playful look at David, "Let's head out. The sun is shining for once and I want some ice cream!" The boys erupted into cheers and made their way out to the car park.

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><p>After some bickering they decided to walk instead of driving since the ice-cream parlour was only 10 minutes away. The boys split off into their own little conversations as they walked, leaving Kurt trailing behind again and feeling like unneeded baggage. How he wished to be back in his dorm room right now and out of everyone's hair. <em>Maybe it isn't too late to turn back...<em>

Kurt dug his phone out of his pocket to check the time. They'd only been walking for a few minutes so it wouldn't be too far away. He looked back over his shoulder and could still see the gates of the school. Making up his mind he started walking slower until the phone that still sat in his hand vibrated. _Thank god that it's on silent. _The last thing he needs is for someone to look back and notice him. He slowly unlocked the phone as he deliberated if he wants to see it. No one's texted him in weeks so it's most likely another string of hateful words or a threat.

Taking a deep breath he puts the last digit in and the screen lights up.

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><p><strong>You know, I'm thinking about making this KurtDavid. At least for a little bit. **


End file.
